


Rewriting Fate

by bel_le



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: During The Hobbit, F/M, Original Character(s), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:14:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bel_le/pseuds/bel_le
Summary: Rewriting fate (in favor of the sons of Durin)Hello everyone! This is my first work ever and I am very nervous to share it. Not everything is canon and some of it is just for fun, but if you find anything hugely wrong then please let me know. Also, if you have any suggestions in terms of formatting or anything of the sort, I would love to hear it. Again, this is my first work, so please be kind! Thanks :)
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Rewriting Fate

Margarita knew she was slightly fucked. Metaphorically of course. She had been hiking these mountains for years now, and somehow, despite what her father had said were excellent navigational skills, she was lost. She would’ve been shocked at the level of fucked she was if she hadn’t been so tired.

She had been wandering these mountains for almost a full 36 hours now, she was pretty sure. Her phone had long since died, sapped by the cold, and the sun was once again beginning to go down. She needed to find a place to shelter so she decided, out of sheer exhaustion, that her best option was to dig a hole in the snow and attempt to shield herself from the wind. When she finally had one at a depth that satisfied her, she stuck her head out of the snow for a last look at the sky. The sun had disappeared to reveal stars that glimmered in the beautiful clear sky, and in the distance she could see the snow shining on the peak of an unfamiliar mountain. She sighed loudly. It was bitterly cold, and she resigned herself to the fact that she would not likely survive the night. She was about to retreat into her snowy dwelling when she heard a long howl echoing through the trees.

“Fuck,” she whispered, craning her neck to see if she could spot the source of the howl. Dying from the cold sounded a lot more appealing than whatever a pack of wolves might do to her. 

She was in the process of removing her pack and sliding down into her shelter when she heard a crunching in the snow behind her and froze. Against her better judgement, she raised her head out of the hole and turned around. There, about 8 feet away and staring intently at her, was a tremendous gray wolf.

It didn’t move, and neither did she. At this point, she knew there was no hope for her down in her shelter except as a meager means of defense. She reached into her pocket for her small switchblade, knowing it wouldn’t do much good in her protection either. Whatever resignation she felt about her death melted away in the face of the wolf, and fear set her heart racing. She would fight.

More wolves approached behind the first, and even in her fear she knew this wasn’t normal behavior for a pack. They didn’t move, snarl, or do anything past stare at her. She screamed at them and wildly swung her switchblade, hoping to startle them away from her. Not one wolf even flinched, but they began to fan out around her. 

“Oh shit,” she thought. When they closed their circle around her, she suddenly heard a crunching behind her. On instinct, she dropped rapidly into the shelter as a smaller black wolf descended on her. As it ducked its head into the hole and snarled, snapping at her in an attempt to reach her, she swung her knife and made a shallow cut into its face. It leapt backwards, yowling and whimpering and she heard the crunching of the snow as it ran away.

Breathing heavily, she slowly rose out of the hole again to see the first wolf still standing there. The others had disappeared, though she hadn’t even heard them retreat. 

Suddenly, a bright white light parted the trees behind the wolf, followed by what sounded like a peal of thunder. The wolf still didn’t move, but Margarita rose from her shelter and shielded her eyes from the onslaught of light. 

“What have you found, Ithilene?” questioned a voice from the direction of the white light. The voice had no identifiable pitch, and felt like it was in her head rather than traveling through the air to her ears. 

It was quiet for a moment, and Margarita clutched her switchblade and ground her teeth. Regardless of whatever spiritual experience she was having, the wolf was not attacking her and this could be her chance to flee up into a tree. She slowly climbed out of the hole she had dug, shielding her eyes from the light.

“A fighter? But how can you be sure that she has the other necessary components to ensure the success of the company?” the voice inquired. The wolf turned its head to face the white light and Margarita saw her chance. She raced towards the nearest tree, pocketing her knife and starting to scale the branches. 

When she was 10 or so feet off the ground, she turned back to see the wolf, still unmoved, looking up at her. White tendrils drifted from the light and she reopened her knife and swung at them.

“It is true enough that her spirit is that of a fighter’s. But Ithilene, how long have you watched her? What do you know of her nature?” Margarita froze, processing the words resonating through her mind. What the fuck is going on? There was silence for a moment, before the voice spoke again. 

“That is long enough. I have decided I agree with your choice. She is strong, and she will keep them alive.” The white tendrils that had been floating increasingly closer to her suddenly wrapped around her wrists, ankles, and backpack and wrenched her out of the tree.

“Endow her with your gifts, Ithilene, and I will take her,” the voice spurred. The tendrils wrapped around nearly her whole body and pulled her down to the ground, face to face with the wolf. Only, it wasn’t a wolf any longer but an extremely tall and beautiful woman. Her dark skin seemed to glow against the snow, as if mirroring the night sky. 

“I am deeply sorry to have frightened you, but I had to be sure,” the woman disclosed as her black, curly afro drifted around her face, completely ignoring the pull of gravity. “I am also sorry for the confusion you are about to experience, but I’m afraid there is little time to explain. Events have been set into motion that require intervention, and I have decided you are to be the one to intervene.”

Margarita didn’t reply, completely in awe of whatever was happening to her. The woman stared at her intently, before reaching her hand to Margarita’s forehead. A searing pain ripped through her body, so intense she could only moan in pain. Suddenly she was thrown into the sky and was hurtling towards the stars.

The woman and the light had disappeared, and the features of the world grew smaller and smaller beneath her. Her hair whipped around her face and the assaulting air brought tears to her eyes. She looked for her isolated house in the woods, but was unable to find it. Turning her head to the sky that she was barrelling towards, she watched as it shifted and contorted, seeming to bend into the shape of a corner. Margarita buckled her pack and willed her eyes to stay open as the corner of the sky split open with tremendous crack, revealing a hole with an entirely different sky, complete with stars.

She flew through the hole and into this new night sky, and then felt herself start to drop at a speed that was unnaturally fast. The hole in the sky closed with another resounding crack, but Margarita was focused on the ground that she was flying towards at a breakneck speed. A scream was ripped from her throat, but she struggled to breathe as the air whipped at her face. 

The ground was becoming increasingly close, and it appeared that she was going to be flattened in someone’s beautiful garden. She closed her eyes and braced for the impact that never came. She had come to an abrupt stop and opened her eyes to the ground, which couldn’t be more than two feet below her. When she realized that she was floating, she suddenly crashed to the ground in a heap, her cheek solidly colliding with the stone pathway beneath her. 

“What in Mahal was that?” she heard a voice ask. Groaning, she rolled over onto her pack and looked up. The sky was beautiful with wisps of clouds partially concealing an incredibly large moon, but it took her mere seconds to realize that all the constellations were foreign.

Suddenly, a bright, warm light fell on the left side of her face and she turned to face it. Standing inside a perfectly round, vaguely familiar doorway was a person. Actually, there were several people, many of them armed with swords and other weapons that glinted in the light. Behind them, she could see a much taller man in an old gray robe.

“What business do you have here lass? I would suggest that you start talking,” the man in front threatened. His bald head shined in the light as he pointed an axe at her. 

“Excuse me, but I hardly find it necessary to point weaponry at unarmed, female guests,” protested a muffled voice that was clearly trying to make its way forward.

“Have care, master hobbit. She doesn’t look to be in her right mind,” warned the man with the axe as he moved to the side to let another small man pass him.

Margarita could not move. The round doorway? The tall man in the robe? The shorter ones with the axes and swords? And now a hobbit? This couldn’t be real, none of it. As the short man approached, she faced him and shuffled backwards, her eyes straining to see the details of his face against the light. 

No. No way. Not a chance. 

“Hello there.” The small man smiled politely. “I am Bilbo Baggins, and, while I do enjoy entertaining, I would certainly appreciate any explanation you have to offer for your abrupt and rather noisy appearance at my door.”

Margarita considered herself to be strong-willed. She was not easily frightened or overwhelmed, and had faced seriously emotional situations with a great deal of strength. But at this polite and gently imploring statement, she felt consciousness escape her and her body went limp as she passed out.

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate any feedback! What did you all think of the first chapter?


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